Poetry competition CLOSED 20th June 2015 1:15pm
WINNER
personanongrata (Astral Gift)
personanongrata (Astral Gift)
Page:
Tell Me - "Boundless Details"
Poetry Contest Description
Sight, hearing, taste, and touch: five traditionally recognised senses.
Two fortnights are given;
As always use only your best editions.
Write a poem that covers as many perception as possible.
Yours faithfully
Infernus.
Questions and Answers:
Double Post:
You may have two entries,
poems that cover all the senses get bonus points!
Less Senses Competitions:
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/competitions/read/8208/
As always use only your best editions.
Write a poem that covers as many perception as possible.
Yours faithfully
Infernus.
Questions and Answers:
Double Post:
You may have two entries,
poems that cover all the senses get bonus points!
Less Senses Competitions:
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/competitions/read/8208/
The 6 Senses of The Samurai
I saw the shit coming
I smelled the shit coming,
but God damn it
I couldn't hear it,
the shit was silent but deadly and defiant
I definitely didn't want to touch the shit
I didn't want no part of it.
I choose to stay shit free,
but shit always get stuck to me.
How to handle your shit without getting it on your hands,
they should teach a workshop, it would be in high demand.
Sometimes when you can't avoid the shit,
it's time to employ your wit.
It don't matter the odds or the advantage
when the shit gathers to take your life from your hands,
pull out the one weapon that only shit understands,
your mind.
every thing is in slow motion when you employ your devotion,
turn the tables on shit,
get acquainted with the Holy Motion,
when the shit hit the walls,
grab the shit by the balls.
I saw the shit coming
I smelled the shit coming,
but God damn it
I couldn't hear it,
the shit was silent but deadly and defiant
I definitely didn't want to touch the shit
I didn't want no part of it.
I choose to stay shit free,
but shit always get stuck to me.
How to handle your shit without getting it on your hands,
they should teach a workshop, it would be in high demand.
Sometimes when you can't avoid the shit,
it's time to employ your wit.
It don't matter the odds or the advantage
when the shit gathers to take your life from your hands,
pull out the one weapon that only shit understands,
your mind.
every thing is in slow motion when you employ your devotion,
turn the tables on shit,
get acquainted with the Holy Motion,
when the shit hit the walls,
grab the shit by the balls.
Sensual attacks
Your loathed paws traced my curves with nauseating appreciation and awe. Still where they touched does my skin crawl.
Your hot rancid breath burnt my flesh and left scolding wounds - of which I'll never out grow or cease to see.
My body entered and defiled over and over ... To your pure adulterated glee and premeditated anticipation.
Left broken, bloody and burned.
As your sharpened nails raked across my bare skin my ears hummed the deceitful tune. How dare they listen to such grotesque defiles.
You stare hungrily over and whisper profanities ... Once more my hearing received them clearly over my tortured sobs, much to my dismay.
You tell me how much I wanted this. How I led you on and drove you to it.
You also made effort to kiss me ... I couldn't bite. My mouth was full with your tongue and the bitterness of stale cigarettes you once sold as your signature pose.
Half chocked was I after forbidden parts of yours were thrust into my reluctant mouth.
Never before have I been forced to put my mouth to such uses ... To carry the burdened, harshly salted taste of your finish on my once innocent tongue.
Cigarette smoke lingered on your breath and on your fingertips.
Sweat stained the air with its potent aroma and ghastly origins.
The once safe small of my bedroom, long since forgotten and replaced by whiffs of insecurity and betrayal.
Eyes drawn firmly shut through fear of acknowledgment and recognition.
My imagination begging for input to help me through this.
The THING abusing me is not a man of flesh and blood but, but via power of will and wishing, it's something believable:
A dark figure ... Acting on primal instinct.
Talons finish of its deadly hands to a dangerous point.
A serpents tongue slips in and out its mouth willingly, tasting the fear in the air with delight.
But imagination fails and I see the face of -
Your loathed paws traced my curves with nauseating appreciation and awe. Still where they touched does my skin crawl.
Your hot rancid breath burnt my flesh and left scolding wounds - of which I'll never out grow or cease to see.
My body entered and defiled over and over ... To your pure adulterated glee and premeditated anticipation.
Left broken, bloody and burned.
As your sharpened nails raked across my bare skin my ears hummed the deceitful tune. How dare they listen to such grotesque defiles.
You stare hungrily over and whisper profanities ... Once more my hearing received them clearly over my tortured sobs, much to my dismay.
You tell me how much I wanted this. How I led you on and drove you to it.
You also made effort to kiss me ... I couldn't bite. My mouth was full with your tongue and the bitterness of stale cigarettes you once sold as your signature pose.
Half chocked was I after forbidden parts of yours were thrust into my reluctant mouth.
Never before have I been forced to put my mouth to such uses ... To carry the burdened, harshly salted taste of your finish on my once innocent tongue.
Cigarette smoke lingered on your breath and on your fingertips.
Sweat stained the air with its potent aroma and ghastly origins.
The once safe small of my bedroom, long since forgotten and replaced by whiffs of insecurity and betrayal.
Eyes drawn firmly shut through fear of acknowledgment and recognition.
My imagination begging for input to help me through this.
The THING abusing me is not a man of flesh and blood but, but via power of will and wishing, it's something believable:
A dark figure ... Acting on primal instinct.
Talons finish of its deadly hands to a dangerous point.
A serpents tongue slips in and out its mouth willingly, tasting the fear in the air with delight.
But imagination fails and I see the face of -
Use your senses wisely:
Although seeing is believing
Do you understand what you are perceiving
Do not believe all you hear
Make sure that the facts are clear
Flavours of some food are manipulated
To ensure demand is stimulated
A bit of fragrance clings to the hand that gives roses
A favour lasts longer than one supposes
A touch can bring comfort but may bring fear
Do not be misunderstood when you go near
Use your senses well, they can assist well being
But misused they can blight your whole being
Although seeing is believing
Do you understand what you are perceiving
Do not believe all you hear
Make sure that the facts are clear
Flavours of some food are manipulated
To ensure demand is stimulated
A bit of fragrance clings to the hand that gives roses
A favour lasts longer than one supposes
A touch can bring comfort but may bring fear
Do not be misunderstood when you go near
Use your senses well, they can assist well being
But misused they can blight your whole being
Anonymous
deleted...
... will be back
... will be back
Anonymous
avoir le mal de quelqu’un ~
a
jade[d] gaze
inhales
shades of
prussian blue aura ~
savouring
raspberry smirks
beneath espresso eyes
... the scent of you
lingers
on forked tongue
in
an addictive melange
of rain
chocolate
[&] flame ...
*
my
fingers creep
in vines
around
the taste
& sherry warmth of
honey hued skin ~
... lips, [still] saturated
in the sound
of whispered kiss,
hear
the beat of
an ebon name
beneath the touch
of
moon glow...
//
a
jade[d] gaze
inhales
shades of
prussian blue aura ~
savouring
raspberry smirks
beneath espresso eyes
... the scent of you
lingers
on forked tongue
in
an addictive melange
of rain
chocolate
[&] flame ...
*
my
fingers creep
in vines
around
the taste
& sherry warmth of
honey hued skin ~
... lips, [still] saturated
in the sound
of whispered kiss,
hear
the beat of
an ebon name
beneath the touch
of
moon glow...
//
MY SENSES ON DENIAL
Blinkers aside your ears
Your sight is fenced
Shields on what he feels
With eyes to be depressed.
Vanity is well hidden
Hope's disguised into a shroud
I felt on my body written
words I shouldn't say outloud.
He touched me and smelled the paint
An echo of his voice , "This is blood..,blood.."
I tasted it and was about to faint
I said ''help me", and heard "I can't".
Inside myself's nest
Sounds are fading away
Sight is following next
This is the prize I have to pay.
My emotions are missing
my integrity is on trial
I glimpse my body bleeding
My senses are on denial.
They're apologising they can't stay
declaring their resignation
"To gain us back you must regret
for your emotional devastation"
It's an unintentional coherence
of taking them for granted
I'll use my insight as defense
as I touch to get a whiff of something.
Blinkers aside your ears
Your sight is fenced
Shields on what he feels
With eyes to be depressed.
Vanity is well hidden
Hope's disguised into a shroud
I felt on my body written
words I shouldn't say outloud.
He touched me and smelled the paint
An echo of his voice , "This is blood..,blood.."
I tasted it and was about to faint
I said ''help me", and heard "I can't".
Inside myself's nest
Sounds are fading away
Sight is following next
This is the prize I have to pay.
My emotions are missing
my integrity is on trial
I glimpse my body bleeding
My senses are on denial.
They're apologising they can't stay
declaring their resignation
"To gain us back you must regret
for your emotional devastation"
It's an unintentional coherence
of taking them for granted
I'll use my insight as defense
as I touch to get a whiff of something.
